


Lucky's Bizzare Adventures

by FarmerofJustice



Category: Mother 3
Genre: Comedy, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6481507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarmerofJustice/pseuds/FarmerofJustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bright Lights! Groovy Beats! Lucky just started his career with the DCMC! The employees of Club Titiboo are a weird bunch, and the members of the band are even weirder. Every day is different! How will Lucky adjust to this wacky bunch? Follow along as he experiences fun practices and heart-pounding concerts! (A bunch of one-off stories; not necessarily in order :3c)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Practice with the DCMC

Lucky stood in his selected spot on stage, sound of random guitar strums and cymbal crashes echoing through the concert hall. Today was his first day actually practicing WITH the rest of the band. For the past couple weeks, it's just been him learning how to play the upright bass with help from Magic.

The noise continued to bounce around, until a single voice boomed over all the other sounds.

"Alright, guys!" OJ said over everyone's instruments. "Let's bring it together."

The random noises died as everyone's focus was brought up to meet with OJ.

Lucky leaned around the bass and met eyes with OJ. He gave Lucky a reassuring smile, almost like he was saying "Don't worry, man! You'll do just fine!" OJ turned back to the rest of the band and took a deep breath in.

"OK! So..." He said, rubbing his hands over the sax hanging around his neck. "First order of business, we've got ourselves a bass player!"

Lucky gave a small wave to the rest of the band as they all cheered on their new-found friend.

"Second order of business," OJ said over the cheering. He paused for a second, rubbing his hands a little slower. "Uhh... it was..." He looked down at the ground.

Lucky stared at OJ, trying to figure out what was happening. The band went silent for a few moments.

Magic finally spoke up; "The waitresses, OJ."

"RIGHT!" OJ almost jumped. "The waitresses! Thank you, Magic!"

OJ re-positioned his feet and started from the top. "Second order of business; some of the waitresses have been complaining about noise coming from the break room and from bedrooms, SO... we all have to either practice here in the concert hall or really quietly."

Reaching towards the stand behind him, OJ picked up a handful of folders and clapped them together.

"Finally," He said, moving towards Lucky. "Shimmy and I have finished rewriting music to accommodate for our new bass player."

OJ handed the folder to Lucky, who took it gingerly. OJ then moved over to Magic to hand out the rest of the music.

The drum rattled as Baccio set his drumsticks down.

"You didn't write anything for me, did you?" He said as OJ moved around toward him.

"Actually," OJ answered as he handed the folder to Magic and began to move towards him. "We did."

Shimmy and Magic snickered as Baccio swung his seat around to meet OJ.

"Wh-Why? You know I can't-"

"I'm kidding, Baccio. We didn't write anything for you."

OJ chuckled as he moved away from the drumset.

Lucky looked at OJ. Did I miss something? He thought.

OJ made it back to the front of the stage and opened up his own folder to pull out music.

"Are we gonna try the Theme today?" Magic said.

OJ filed through a few pages of music before answering.

"Actually, I was thinking we could try Samba de Combo today. Shimmy wrote a wicked cool bass line at the beginning."

Lucky froze.

"Uh, OJ." Magic said, softening his voice a bit. "I don't think Lucky's ready for something like that. He just got the hang of playing that thing."

Lucky's thoughts were racing. He swung his head to look at the music on his stand. And, sure enough, there was the monster of a bass solo.

"He'll be fine! I believe he can do it!" OJ said.

He's putting way to much confidence in me... Lucky's face scrunched up.

Looking back to the rest of the band, he saw that they were already getting the special instruments they would be using for Samba de Combo. There was a variety of instruments that would normally be unusual for a band to use, but not for this band. There were egg shakers, a gnarled object, a stick of some sort, and something that looks like a beaten up trash can lid. For some reason, Baccio was treating that piece of garbage with extra care.

Baccio could feel Lucky's confused stare boring into him. He halted his setup and faced his body toward the new bassist. With his mallets, he made broad gestures indicating that what he was moving was not a trash can, but some sort of custom made drum.

Before Lucky knew it, everyone was in place and ready to begin. He scrambled to get his music in order to catch up with the rest of the band, but OJ gave him another smile and told him to relax. "I'll cue you in when you're all set... We're ready when you are, Baccio!"

Baccio gave him a nod and then sat down in his seat. Facing Magic and Shimmy, he gave them a thumbs up and nodded his head till he got to the desired tempo. He lifted his drum sticks slightly above the drums. Without much warning, Baccio, Magic and Shimmy had all joined together in a driving rhythm, all of them absorbed in the energy of the song.

What? They're already playing and- Oh no... Lucky caught OJ's eye, and the band leader took a big breath.

Oh, no no no- please don't count me in. I'm hardly ready at all and I-

"1, 2, 3, Hakkotan!"

Lucky's fingers flew up to the neck of the bass and, as if on instinct, began maneuvering their way around the strings to the fast-paced rhythm. His brain barely kept up as the notes on the page danced around. His fingers just moved on their own. And it was working.

Shimmy soon came in on the keyboard, keeping in perfect harmony with Lucky. OJ came in soon after, moving and bending the music to his will. Everything and everyone worked with each other.

The notes on the page ended and Lucky had a break to comprehend what happened. Behind him, Baccio bounced his mallets against the garbage-lid-looking drum. The sound of the instrument caught Lucky off-guard. The way the notes rang through the concert hall was so unique and nothing he had ever heard before.

In fact, it was so awe-inspiring, Lucky forgot about his entrance.

He quickly moved his hands back into place as he tried to cover up his mistake. OJ looked back behind him, his sax firmly in his mouth, and gave Lucky the "Everything ok?" look. Lucky gave a forced smile as he made his way back into the music.

The next lines were easy. One note after the other. Lucky knew he could handle quarter notes.

But he was so enthralled by the unique sounds of all the other instruments around him. The way clacks and ticks and scratches all worked together to create a groove made Lucky forget about the sound of his own instrument.

TWANG. Wrong note.

Lucky knotted his face at the sound of the deep note that argued with the music. He missed the next couple notes just to get his mind back on where he was. He could feel Shimmy looking up at him across the way. He avoided making eye contact, but still made a small nod to tell Shimmy that he was alright.

Don't do it again don't do it again don't do it again, Lucky's mind chanted. But his heart sank even more with the next few missed notes of the song.

At one point, he felt as if he wasn't reading the music right. The notes didn't line up and his playing didn't seem to groove. Lucky's face grew hot and his fingers frantically felt around the strings to attempt to make peace with the gnarled sounds.

But Lucky pulled himself through to the end of the music. Everyone ended on one harmonic note that left a feeling of content. The last note echoed for a few moments and the band stood in silence for a moment before they all turned towards Lucky.

Lucky tried to hide himself behind his bass, but OJ came up next to him and smacked his hand in the center of his back.

"Hey! Great job, man!" OJ smiled widely.

"Not bad for first rehearsal!" Shimmy beamed from across the stage.

Magic stood in awe. "I can't believe you NAILED that line! That was great!"

Lucky turned towards Baccio, who gave him a solid thumbs up and a calm grin.

Lucky smiled weakly and lowered his shaking hands from the neck of the bass. "Th-Thank you." He said softly.

He did do a good job and he knew it. Lucky felt like, for the first time, he did something incredible.

.....

Lucky flopped on top of his mattress and waded in his euphoria. Compared to all of his memories, which ended up being only about 15 days worth of memories, this was the happiest he has ever been in his entire life. He lay flat on his back, arms behind his head, and let the fluttering warmth fill up his heart and the corners of his mouth. No, he hadn't been in the band for very long, but for some reason he finally felt like he did something right.

A clicking and creaking noise indicated that someone was entering the room next to his.

Turning his head back to his own room, he noticed the differences between his room and the small glimpses he got into the other ones. It was nearly barren, not to mention the fact that it was extremely dusty. He dragged a hand across the night stand next to his bed, and inspected his fingers.

Well, at least I can start by getting rid of all this old dust piling up, Lucky thought to himself. He wiped his hands on his pants and lowered it onto his stomach. It could at least wait until the reality sunk in of what just happened sunk in. Despite Lucky being unsure, nervous, and an anxious mess, he had performed better than he could have ever imagined.

"How do you think Samba went today?"

Lucky perked up as he heard the faint voices come from the other side of the wall. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear another person enter the room next to his. Leaning his head towards the wall, he tried to hear the voices better.

"I think it went pretty well. I'm glad the steel drums survived for so long in storage, actually..."

"OJ, I'm talking about Lucky."

There was silence. The hairs on the back of Lucky's neck stood up.

"... Lucky did very well today, you know that, Shimmy."

His chest tightened as he heard OJ's voice get softer. He wiped the sweat off his palms and placed them firmly on his thighs.

"The beginning was alright but he almost completely fell apart in the middle. I know you heard it, OJ."

"Yeah, I heard it, but-"

"I had to carry him through the rest of the piece. I don't think he would have made it on his own."

It went silent again.

Lucky's heart was racing. Shimmy was pulling me through? Oh no, I didn't think I was that bad...

"Shimmy..."

"I think he needs more practice with Magic. He's not ready for full band rehearsals just yet-"

"Shimmy stop."

He's right. I shouldn't even be in the band. I'm not ready. I'm not even close to being ready.

"Lucky did great for his first time. You have to remember that he didn't even know what a bass was before two weeks ago. No, he's not fantastic yet, but I'm not expecting him to be. And he'll never get better if he doesn't hear his mistakes, Shimmy."

Lucky froze. His lungs hurt and his eyes felt like falling out of his sockets. He couldn't get the knot out of his stomach, even with the tightening grip of his hands on his abdomen. OJ's voice broke through again.

"We can practice an easier song tomorrow."

"... Alright."

The two voices disappeared and were replaced with the ambient sounds of the club. Lucky was left once again to his own thoughts. But those weren't any more pleasant than OJ and Shimmy's conversation. Lucky's arm shook as he pulled himself back into his spot on the bed. His chest was on fire and his breathing was choppy and uneven. His body melted into the comforting embrace of the mattress and warm blankets. He wanted to just evaporate into the warm air and never disappear forever.

Lucky's thoughts were halted with the sound of two raps on his door. As the door opened, he sat up to greet whoever was at the door.

The doorknob twisted and Magic popped his head through the opening.

"Hey, man!" He smiled. "Doin' alright?"

Lucky rubbed his eye and took a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah. I'm alright."

"Cool, cool. Got any blisters you want some help with?"

Lucky looked down at his hands. Sure enough, thick, mustard-yellow blisters covered the tips of the fingers he used to pluck his bass. And, now that he wasn't paying attention to his racing thoughts, those blisters do really burn...

"Uh, yeah." Lucky said, wiggling his fingers a bit. He looked back up at Magic. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not, dude!" Magic laughed as he entered Lucky's room. "I had to suffer through them too."

Magic shook the box of band-aids in his hand and plopped himself down next to Lucky on his bed. He reached into the box and pulled out a small sewing needle and held out his other hand to grab Lucky's.

"Hand." He simply said. Lucky slowly placed his hand into Magic's; palm up. Magic's fingers wrapped around Lucky's and placed them into a tight grip. The needle flipped around Magic's fingers then made it way towards Lucky's poor blisters.

Lucky winced as the blister burned into his fingers as the needle pushed into it. His eyes wandered around the ground before he could mutter any words.

"Hey, Magic...?"

"Yeah, man?" He responded without straying from popping the blisters.

Lucky paused. "Do... Do you think I... Did I play alright- uh well, during-" He inhaled sharply as Magic's needle made it's way through the blister, unleashing the hotness and burn from his finger.

Magic re-positioned his arm and moved on to the next blister. "Did you play alright during practice today?" He said completing Lucky's sputtering.

"Uh... Yeah." Lucky said. His breath grew shallow and his eyes looked for something to focus on.

Magic took a deep breath before answering. "You played really well for your first time with the band, Lucky." The needle pushed through the next blister and Lucky made a soft whine. "I didn't think you were ready to play something like Samba de Combo, considering you've only been playing for a couple weeks."

There was a pause. Magic's words were comforting to Lucky. Everything he said felt sincere and caring.

"You really did do well. The bass isn't an easy instrument to play and you made it look so simple."

Lucky twitched as Magic pushed through the next blister and stopped.

"... Don't compare yourself to the rest of us, Lucky. We've been playing our entire lives and you've just picked the thing up."

Magic made his way to the final blister and poked through it almost immediately. He dropped the needle back into the box and pulled out a tissue.

Lucky looked down at the oozing fingers and smiled weakly. "I-I just..."

"Here. Wipe your blisters off." Magic said handing the tissue to Lucky.

Magic pulled a few band-aids out between his fingers as Lucky rubbed the tips of his fingers with the tissue.

"You really did do well today. And you'll get better with the more practices you go to. Just keep up the progress and you'll do just fine!" Magic peeled back the band-aid wrapper. Lucky held his hand back out.

"... Thank you, Magic." Lucky said softly. Magic wrapped the band-aid around Lucky's index finger and began unwrapping the second one.

"Hey, no problem, man." Magic gave Lucky a huge smile and nudged his shoulder against him.

Magic wrapped the second band-aid around Lucky's middle finder as Lucky looked back down at the somewhat appealing floor. He couldn't believe this band was so accepting to him and, not only that, but so kind and patient. Lucky really felt welcome in this club. He felt like he belonged.

And yet, tomorrow is another day.


	2. SMACKDOWN

"Okay, it would be easier for you to reach that note if you already have your hands in this position."

"Like this?"

"No, you gotta lean into it like THIS."

"...This?"

"No."

"...What?"

"You have to lean in with your whole body if you want to get to that note in time. The rest isn't as long as you think it is. If you want to keep up with the tempo, you're going to have to position yourself before the bar even begins... ...You're still leaning too much on your right leg-"

"..."

"...Oh! Sorry dude, I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine..."

"I shouldn't have forgotten about that already, I've already known your for a month now."

"Really, it's alright... Don't worry about it."

Lucky sighed and relaxed his position on his bass. Turning his head towards his teacher, Lucky noticed concern and regret in Magic's face. Ever since Lucky's lessons with him started becoming more frequent, it was easier to read his mannerisms when talking with him, more so than his other band mates. Lucky looked back to the strings of the bass. He really was sorry, huh.

"Did you want to take a quick break?" Magic's sudden comment startled Lucky out of his thoughts. He noticed that Magic had already started getting out cleaning supplies for his guitar, getting ready for a ritual that happened just about four times every day.

Lucky nodded, and with a little bit of help from Magic, he moved the bass back onto it's stand. After making sure that the bass was in place, Lucky turned back to Magic and asked him, "How long is the break going to last?"

Magic flashed a huge grin at Lucky and slapped him on the back. "We'll start practice again when you've had enough time to recharge, so whenever you come back!"

He laughed, and Lucky let out a weak smile.

"Just give a knock when you're ready to start up again, and we can get back into it right away. I'll be with Gloria until you get back."

"Wait- who?" Taken aback, Lucky gave Magic an odd look. Did he hear that right? Magic mentioned... someone's name?

Their eyes both locked for a moment, until Magic realized that Lucky was waiting for an explanation. "Oh, don't worry about it, man. Just relax for a bit, alright?" Magic brushed away the issue with a wave of his hand, which also doubled as a cue that Lucky was free to go. As he was closing the door, Lucky could have sworn that he could have heard Magic whisper something to himself...

.....

A chaotic rhythm of noises faded as Lucky walked farther away from Club Titiboo. Not long after he joined the DCMC, the owners of the club scheduled construction on the building to make it seem more appealing to a bigger audience. Two of the workers were arguing with each other over which piece of an ornate elephant fit into the base of the statue. Lucky was glad to be walking away from it.

The cool mountain air sent a chill down Lucky's spine. He rubbed his arms and took a deep breath in. The atmosphere outside the club was so relaxing. It was nice to get out of the crowded building once in a while. The warmth of the sun welcomed Lucky to a calmer atmosphere and wrapped him in its warm rays. Everything around him seemed to be at peace.

Except the animal running up the side of the mountain.

Lucky's muscles tightened. I-is that a chimera? His thoughts went wild. Every part of him told him to run but his body refused to move.

The animal took shape as it came closer to Lucky. Its body was thick and poofy and the head was covered in a mass of highlighter pink fur-

That's not a chimera...

The figure screamed. Its pace picked up and its arms spread out wide as if to welcome Lucky.

Is... what the... Is that a person-

Lucky was suddenly lifted off his feet as the figure tackled him and spun him around in the air.

"Oh, Duster! Oh, thank goodness I found you! Heck, I'm glad you're OKAY!" The figure plopped Lucky back down and gave him an enormous, toothy smile.

"Wh-what..? I-I-Who ar-?"

"Right right right." The figure, which Lucky now realized was a person, interrupted his sputtering and waved a hand around. "I'm sure you don't remember me. I mean, it has been a month since you've gone missing. Man, your old man and I have been looking for you EVERYWHERE since then..."

Lucky quickly scanned the person in front of him as they talked. They were covered head to toe in mud splatters and leaves. Their hair was wild; sticking out in every direction and, not only that, was bright pink. It looked like it was dyed, but, at the same time, looked so real. Lucky was mesmerized by the pink locks.

"Hey!" The person snapped their fingers, getting Lucky out of his trance. "Are you even listening? I said I'd been looking for you everywhere! You have no idea how many asses I had to beat to even get an idea to where you were?"

"I-I" Lucky muttered. "S-s-sorry..?"

"Damn right, you're sorry! Don't run away like that again."

Run away...? Run away from what?

Lucky tried to get a question in between the person's yelling, but was interrupted again.

"Now," The person brushed a leaf off their shoulder. "Let's get out of here. Show me where you put the egg."

"Wait." Lucky finally got in.

They both went silent. Lucky inhaled deeply.

"I-I don't know... Who are you? Exactly?"

The person knitted their eyebrows. Lucky could feel their confusion as if it was a blast of hot air.

"It's me. Kumatora. You know...? From Osohe Castle?"

Another pause.

"You and your old man got me out of that trap?"

Kumatora stopped again as if waiting for something to click. But Lucky stood there, stone-faced and confused as ever.

"For HELL'S SAKE, Duster! Drop the act! We don't have time; you have to show me where the egg went!"

Lucky flinched back as Kumatora yelled. They took a deep breath in and calmly continued;

"Ok. Ok. Obviously, you can't remember anything. That's... fine."

They rubbed their temples. Lucky felt helpless and confused. Who's Duster? Who is this guy? Are they talking about me?

Kumatora pounded her fist into her open palm.

"I've got it! You know what jogs my memory? A good beating to the head!" They made a motion to a spot on their head. "I just need you to remember where the egg is, so I won't pound you too bad."

They gave Lucky a solid wink and cracked their knuckles. Lucky made an uncomfortable noise from the back of his throat and shifted back. Almost as if it were a flash of lightning, Kumatora's fist met with Lucky's poor nose. He stumbled back, not from pain, but from pure shock as to how fast they moved.

"Anything?" They said, rubbing their knuckles.

Lucky didn't move. He hovered his hand over his nose in preparation for another attack. He hoped that if he just didn't answer, they wouldn't hit him again.

"Hmm. Worse than I thought... I'm gonna have to use a bit more force."

A strong grip balled up under Lucky's neck and gave a hard tug. In an instance, he was lifted off his feet again, being dangled from his collar. For the size of the crazed person, they were surprisingly strong. Lucky gave half of a cry for help but was immediately silenced by hard knuckles to his teeth.

POP. Kumatora landed the first blow to his jaw. Lucky's mouth swelled with pain. He could hear the shouts of distant men and, as he tried to call for them, another jab landed on his face.

POW. The second blow twisted his head to the side. He spit blood out of his gaping mouth. The thrill from the bruised jaw was too much to bear. All Lucky wanted was for the pain to stop.

And sure enough...

CRACK. One last punch to the nose. The world blacked out as his mind slipped out of consciousness.

Everything was dark. Lucky cherished waking up from this nap he was taking, and he was just about ready to roll out from a strangely uncomfortable bed. This bed was extremely hard and his body refused to move when he tried to roll out of it. It could hardly be called a bed because it wasn't a bed. It was the floor. No, from the smells he could pick up through his swollen nose, it was more like the dirt ground than a floor.

Wait... I woke up in the dirt with a swollen nose, wasn't i just practicing with Magic? What the hell happened to me? Lucky thought to himself, but then pain overwhelmed his thoughts and he tried his best to suppress a groan.

Then Lucky heard familiar voices. It was the rest of the DCMC, and he could feel their presence looming over him. And they felt Lucky's body stirring beneath them.

"Hey... Hey guys look! Lucky's alive!"

"Of course he's alive, Magic. He was just unconscious, thanks to that sicko who beat on him."

"When I meet that asshole, I'll pound them into the dirt, I swear on my life!"

"I think OJ is already fully prepared to do that..."

Lucky's eyes blinked open slowly. His vision was faded, but he noticed the colors and shapes that came together to form the members of the band; Magic's brown, spiky mohawk, Shimmy's colorful beads, Baccio's tall stature and towheaded-ness. The only one missing was...

"OJ...?" Lucky murmured as he tried to sit up.

"Woah, woah. Hey, slow down there, bud!" Magic placed a hand on Lucky's back to support him.

"Don't push yourself, Lucky." Shimmy stood up to give him some room. "You took quite a beating back there."

Magic pulled Lucky upright. Every inch of his head throbbed with pain. Rubbing his temples to ease the pain, Lucky looked around to find OJ. His figure stood not too far away; his arms pulled up in a tight fold, legs out in a wide stance. There was two more bodies in front of OJ, but Lucky's blurred vision couldn't make out the finer details yet. There was, however, a struggling person caught between the two other bodies. And OJ did not look happy with whoever that was.

"You've got a LOT of nerve messin' with one of the DCMC, kid." OJ shouted.

Lucky tried to pull himself onto his feet, but was stopped by Magic's hand on his chest.

"Relax, dude." Magic said, leaning Lucky back a bit. "If OJ gets out of control, we'll take care of it."

His thoughts raced around his throbbing head. Out of control?

"I'm not a kid, ok!?" An all-too-familiar voice shouted back. "And I came here to get Duster! Not whoever 'Lucky' is."

Lucky began to remember what happened a few minutes ago. The pink-haired person that was burned into his mind took shape as he remembered who the voice belonged to.

"What kind of a name is Lucky, anyway? That sounds like a name I'd give my dog!" Kumatora continued, still struggling to get out of the grip of large construction workers.

Trying once again to get up on his feet, Lucky rolled forward into Magic's hand. But, instead of stopping him, Magic wrapped an arm around Lucky's backside to help him up. Finally, with Magic's help of course, he was standing up. He could feel the blood rush out of his head and into his sore body. He winced as his leg recollected the fact that it needed to swell with pain like it has for as long as Lucky could remember. At least it was a break from his pounding head.

"Like your name is any better, 'bear-tiger'!" OJ taunted.

Lucky could feel Magic's chest tighten. Across from him, Shimmy shifted uncomfortably and Baccio clenched his fists.

"Baccio..." Magic grinded his teeth.

"That's a lot of smack coming from a guy whose name is ORANGE JUICE."

Everyone froze. All eyes suddenly locked onto OJ.

There was a long pause as the atmosphere grew tense. Lucky felt Magic's breathing grow shallow. And, even though he couldn't see any faces from where he was standing, Lucky knew that even Shimmy's and Baccio's faces were frozen in alarm.

After a few moments of unblinking stares at OJ and a couple unsettling breaths, OJ made the first move. He shifted on his feet and lifted an arm to roll up his sleeve as he took a deep breath in.

"OJ, no..."

"OJ, don't!"

Baccio sprung forward and hooked his hand under the back of OJ's collar. Held back by Baccio's strong grip, OJ wriggled himself around began screaming. Kumatora began doing the same thing across from him.

Through his still-fuzzy eyes, the whole scene looked like a playground fight to Lucky.

Continuing to twist around violently, OJ yelled constant insults at both Kumatora and Baccio; such as "Let go of me, you big, ugly bastard" and a few things about a "whore" or some other words that Lucky didn't quite understand. Kumatora was yelling similar insults, but their words sounded less hurtful coming from someone who had a smoother voice than OJ. There will still strong insults coming from both parties, no matter the tone of voice.

After the commotion began to slow, Kumatora was promptly lifted off her feet by the large construction workers holder them back. As she was being taken away from the still-struggling OJ and company, the yelling and insults grew less frequent. And, as they disappeared behind the side of the mountain, OJ had finally stopped twisting around and screaming.

A moment of silence fell after Kumatora disappeared.

Baccio released his grip on OJ's collar. He pulled back slightly away from Baccio and re-positioned his shirt. Instead of running after Kumatora like Lucky thought he would do (after witnessing OJ scream profanities he didn't even know existed), OJ instead adjusted his stance and turned to Lucky.

"You alright, Lucky?"

That was the first thing out of OJ's mouth. It took Lucky by surprise; he was expecting something like "Sorry you had to see that" or "You know what; screw that guy" or something worse. Lucky stood with his mouth ajar, unable to make comprehensible words or even a decent noise.

"Lucky?"

Magic gently nudged Lucky in his ribs with his shoulder. Pulling out of his trance, Lucky finally spoke up.

"I-I'm alright, I guess..." He stuttered.

"Well," OJ re-adjusted his shirt again. "That's good. We were afraid that guy knocked the sense outta you."

Magic snorted. "I don't know. I think they gave Lucky a broken nose."

Crossing his eyes to get a better view, Lucky noticed that that the bridge of his nose was black and blue, but it didn't feel broken or out of place. He shook his head.

"No, no... I'm alright."

"It's not broken?" Lucky shook his head again. Magic sighed; "That's a relief."

OJ made a large gesture to Magic.

"Get him back to the club to get him patched up."

Still a little dizzy, Lucky was led by Magic back into the club. Before entering the building, Lucky heard Shimmy let out a light chuckle and lightly hit OJ on his arm, while Baccio let out a rhetorical question.

"So tell me... You still think that the club doesn't need bouncers?"

 

Happy 10th Anniversary, Mother 3!


	3. Can't Touch This

"Don't worry. I'll be right back. I'm just getting something from the other room."

...

That's what Shimmy said before leaving the concert hall.

And yet, for the past ten minutes, the rest of the band stood there waiting and bickering and yelling as they waited for their keyboardist to return. OJ picked up where he left off a few days ago and brought up the fight-that-would-be with the pink haired assultant. Lucky tapped his foot a bit, looking at his instrument. OJ was describing the ways he would twist their body and get revenge on them for what he did. Magic was plucking some chords out as he argued with OJ, saying how the problem was resolved and the band wouldn't see them again.

"I'll hold this grudge as long as I can remember them, Magic... And don't hold me back if we see em' again!" Magic doubled over in laughter as Baccio jumped into the argument. He visibly rolled his eyes as he added comments here and there to taunt OJ. Lucky looked in from the outside of their conversation, looking for an opening to get them back on track.

Over everyone else's voice, however, Baccio finally spoke up;

"...Where the hell did Shimmy go?"

Silence slowly eased through the band.

Everyone shared a couple shrugs and confused noises.

"Well..." OJ continued. "We don't have a lot of time to practice today."

Magic plucked at his guitar. "We gotta tune the instruments, man."

"I know, I know."

The keys on OJ's sax clicked under his fingers.

From across the stage, Lucky stared over at Shimmy's keyboard. Anyone could easily go over and use it; that seemed like an easy fix. But Lucky didn't know why no one was moving towards it.

Placing the upright bass onto its stand, Lucky began to move towards the keyboard.

"Lucky..? Wh-what are you doing?"

Lucky's eyes met with OJ's as he moved across the stage.

"I-uh... I figured th-that we could just..." Lucky reached his hand toward the ivory keys. Those beautiful, shiny keys called out to him, beckoning him to play the sweet tunes of the electronic piano. They looked untouched.

"Wait, Lucky!"

Lucky's hand froze. He could feel a sense of real fear in OJ's voice.

"Don't..." OJ said between deep breaths. "Don't touch Shimmy's keyboard."

Lucky knitted his eyebrows and lowered his hand away from the keyboard. Wh-What? Is the piano gonna jump out and bite me or something?

The sound of footsteps was quickly followed by a loud call towards Lucky.

"Lucky?" Shimmy called, emerging from the dark hallway. He tightened his grip on the bottle of cleaner in his hand and shifted the large music folder. "What are you doing?"

Lucky gave him a half-smile.

"I-I was just-uh... I was just go-gonna help t-tune the band..."

Shimmy made his way to his position in front of his keyboard. His eyes gave a clear message of "back off".

"Don't. Ever. Touch my keyboard."

... W-wait, what...?

Lucky's hand hovered away from the shining keyboard. With a quick shift of his arms, Shimmy was already over his keyboard; the bottle of cleaner in one hand and a small cloth in the other.

The rest of the band groaned.

"Come on, Shimmy." OJ rolled his eyes as Shimmy went to work scrubbing the keyboard. "We don't have time for this...!"

"Well, guess what? I am NOT going to get sick because someone put their nasty hands on my instrument!" Shimmy sneered.

Lucky felt personally offended that someone referred to his hands as 'nasty'. He was sure he at least washed them today. And yet, Shimmy continued to wipe down the ivory keys as if someone threw dirt on it.

"We really don't have time for this, man. You gotta tune us." Magic said, placing his hands into playing position.

All this arguing between band members made Lucky somewhat uncomfortable. As he was making his way back to his bass, he felt left out of all the commotion. But, then again, he really didn't want to be a part of the arguing.

He did, however, feel like this whole thing started because of him.

Lucky's heart sank into his stomach. His whole body wanted to just evaporate. If that happened, then maybe he wouldn't feel like he was splitting the entire band apart.

After Shimmy calmed down and finished scrubbing his keyboard, the rest of practice was short and sweet. Run through a couple tunes and head out. The music didn't feel quite right today, however. There was a sense of tension among the band. The ease of the notes didn't sound happy and the tunes didn't flow quite right in Lucky's head... Or was that from the guilt? Either way, Lucky didn't want to stay around the hostility for very long and made his way to the break room backstage to calm down.

The rhythmic sound of a small fridge running echoed through the empty room, pounding in Lucky's thoughtless head. Soft couch cushions gave way to Lucky's body weight. They felt inviting and enclosed his sides eagerly. Lucky's body felt like melting into the cushions and just taking a break from life.

A click cut through the silence and shot through Lucky's relaxed thoughts. The door to the break room opened.

Shimmy stepped through open doorway. Lucky pushed himself into a presentable sitting position and gave a nice smile to his bandmate. Shimmy gave a smile and nod in return.

"Hey there, Lucky! Good job at practice today!"

Plopping down in the seat next to Lucky, Shimmy gave a sigh of relief and relaxed his body into the soft couch.

What do I do? What do I say? Is it ok if I ask about his keyboard? Do I forget about it? I have to know why he wants his keyboard clean... But is it ok to ask? I don't know I don't know I don't know-

"Oh hey, Lucky..."

Lucky jumped at the sound of Shimmy's nice, clear voice. He gave a quivering, uneven noise from the back of his throat in return.

"Sorry about... uh," Shimmy moved some of his dreads out of the way. "Sorry that I got a bit mad at you earlier. I forget that you're still so new to our band..."

Shimmy chuckled a bit to reassure Lucky. Half a smile was all Lucky could muster at this point.

"Yeah. I shouldn't have gotten mad. I just don't like it when people touch my keyboard. Or, anything of mine for that matter."

Another soft chuckle. Lucky's mind was racing.

Shimmy paused and took a good, long look at Lucky.

"...Don't worry, man!" Shimmy lightly punched Lucky's upper arm. "I ain't mad at you! Nothin' to worry about, alright?"

Taking a deep breath, Lucky nodded and attempted to give another good smile.

Oh man, did he wish he'd gotten to know his band members more. He'd been the bass player of the DCMC for over a month now and he is just barely getting to know OJ, Shimmy, and Baccio. There was a sense of disconnection between Lucky and the rest of the band. There was no denying it. It was almost like Lucky was on his own little island. Lucky's island. Where no one but Magic came to visit.

Poor, alienated Lucky felt his heart sink even lower as Shimmy turned his head away from him. How he longed for the secrets of small talk. Or, at least, how to talk to people in general-

"Oh, for crying out loud-"

Lucky jumped again. Shimmy's voice got too loud and too angry for comfort.

The couch shifted as Shimmy got up from it and marched furiously to the door. Lucky curled his arms and legs closer to his chest as if preparing to hide himself.

Swinging the door open, Shimmy began to scream into the hallway.

"OJ!" He shouted. "Get your ass in here!"

A few thuds and shifts later, OJ's indecipherable voice was heard from across the backstage area.

"The break room, you filthy... Nasty... Oh, just GET IN HERE!" Shimmy called back.

Lucky was almost in full panic mode by this point. He had no idea what the hell was going on and he felt like he was about to get a shit storm from more band mates. His hands began to fiddle around hastily, as if trying to wipe all the beads of sweat off his skin.

Before Shimmy could turn and reassure Lucky, OJ stomped into the break room; his sax still hanging around his neck from practice.

"What, Shimmy?" OJ said. He averted his gaze from Shimmy to take a quick glance at a nervous Lucky on the couch. He gave a quick grin before looking back to Shimmy.

"Get your nasty-ass reed off the table." Shimmy pointed to the small coffee table in front of the couch.

Sure enough, a large saxophone reed sat on the table, suspiciously close to where Shimmy had decided to sit earlier. Lucky eyeballed it for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh of relief. At least he wasn't being yelled at.

"Oh!" OJ walked over to the sitting reed and held it up to his line of sight. "That's where I left it!"

Shimmy grumbled. "Stop leaving those disgusting reeds all over the place! It makes me sick."

OJ shrugged and wiped the reed on his nice dress shirt.

"Sorry." He said, placing the old reed in his mouth. "You know I just forget where I leave them."

"Well you can't just-" Shimmy paused to gag. "You can't just leave them all over the place like that! You're gonna spread your disease everywhere. I'm not getting sick because of you, ok?"

OJ shrugged again and turned to leave the room.

"OJ."

Stopping in the doorway, OJ turned into the room once again to address Shimmy.

"... You have a reed in your sax already."

The reed drooped in OJ's mouth. Bringing the mouthpiece up to eye level, OJ finally noticed the nice, clean reed clasped on it.

"Huh. I guess so." OJ pulled the old reed out of his mouth and flicked it into the trashcan.

As OJ finally left the break room doorway, Shimmy was visibly shaken from that nasty encounter. Lucky, with his arms and legs still pulled in front of his chest, began to relax a bit. Making eye contact with Lucky, Shimmy moved back towards his original spot on the couch.

"Euck." He stuck his tongue out comically. Lucky giggled and relaxed some more as Shimmy plopped down next to him. "I swear, one of these days that filthy freak is gonna be so sick." Shimmy huffed and crossed his arms.

Lucky fiddled with his hands a bit more as they sat together in silence. His original question was answered, but now he had another question he wanted to ask Shimmy. Fortunately for Lucky, at this point he had the courage to ask him.

"So, uh... I was wondering that-" Shimmy turned to face Lucky. "If you could... D-do you want to talk about you more?"

It could have been worded a bit more gracefully, but Shimmy understood Lucky's bumbling words. "Of course, ask away."

The two of them sat on the couch, first talking about quirks that would set each other off. Lucky, hardly remembering anything about his past, had a bit of trouble adding to the conversation. Luckily for Lucky, Shimmy was understanding about that. He was very good at holding a conversation and kept Lucky engaged even when he had nothing to contribute. With a little help from Shimmy, Lucky managed to find out that he gets on edge when anyone snaps near his face, and makes sharp clapping noises. Amnesia doesn't help him remember why he does this. Shimmy said that it could always just be that he is easily sensitive towards what other people do, and can be overwhelmed by it. And that's okay.

Their conversation dipped in and out of other topics, and they eventually landed on the topic of animals. Despite Shimmy's repulsion in anything unclean, he adores animals.

"Sure I love animals, who doesn't? Though I can't really handle being anywhere near any animals that," Shimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "You know, the nasty ones that don't like to clean themselves. Or the ones that like to roll in their own filth."

"Do snakes clean themselves?" Lucky asked.

"Well, I don't really know! But I know for sure that snakes are generally very clean. What brought that up?"

"Oh, well this might be kind of strange but there's this pink snake that follows me around in the club-"

Shimmy, who was clearly uncomfortable again, glanced around the room, as if he would find the snake dart through the shadows.

"N-no no! It's fine, I'm sure! All they really do is just occasionally ask if we can be friends again. Sometimes they ask if I hate them, which I don't! How can I hate such a wonderful creature! And one that can talk! Isn't that neat?"

Shimmy clearly wasn't listening. He rose from his seat and started looking around on the floor.

"I um... I think they might have known me before I lost my memory. Uh, Shimmy? It's alright, I don't think-"

Shimmy got on his hands and knees and started looking in the cracks between stacked boxes in the room.

"I don't think they'll hurt anyone, but If-"

Shimmy suddenly scrambled backwards and let out a disgusted gagging noise, building up into a scared shout. "OH GOD LUCKY, WHAT DID I JUST TOUCH," he blurted out. He didn't give Lucky a chance to react when he began his frenzied shouts. "IT WAS SLIMY AND IT WAS NASTY AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS, OH GOD. LUCKY WHAT WAS IT? PLEASE LUCKY, I'M NOT GOING NEAR THERE AGAIN. WHATEVER IT WAS IT WAS DISGUSTING AND NASTY AND I DON'T WANT TO BE OVER THERE."

Lucky got up from his seat and crouched down by the boxes, cautiously peering into the darkness. Snakes aren't slimy... Are they? Lucky couldn't remember. He considered asking Shimmy, but then he was gazing upon the source of his bandmate's horror.

"It looks like... You touched one of OJ's... used reeds..."

And Shimmy screamed.


	4. Invisible Soup for the Soul

"No, no. It's ok. I can- I can still..."

"Shimmy, lay down. You're sick."

"No, I'm FINE. Just let me- HUUURKK"

"SHIMMY, LAY DOWN."

Baccio wrestled a sick Shimmy back under the covers of his bed. After the first couple struggles to get free, Shimmy finally calmed down and wedged himself back in between the sheets.

"You can't go out like this, dude." Magic said, standing safely behind Baccio's large stature. "We don't want you getting worse than you already are... Or getting us sick..."

"Well, excuse me for tryin' to be out there with the rest of y'all," Shimmy said in between raspy coughs and wet sniffles. "Like, ya know, a FRIEND."

At this time of day, Lucky didn't think he'd be watching Baccio wrestle a sick man back into bed. It was WAY too early for this. Lucky rubbed his tired eyes and looked around the room wearily.

Shimmy's room was extremely organized. Ok, well... Shimmy and Baccio's room. The whole shift in band members forced Baccio out of his barren room and into Shimmy's spotless room. Lucky didn't hear any complaints from them until now, since he was awoken from his slumber to find Baccio forcing Shimmy back into his bed.

As for the room, everything was very clean. No trace of dust or clutter anywhere. Papers were neatly stacked on a small desk, everything fit together in a specific spot... Even a large... Something..? Lucky didn't quite know what it was. From the shape, it looked like a huge box with a blanket over it. Whatever it was, it seemed to be in just the right place. Just what you'd expect from Shimmy.

"Well, you can be our friend right here from your bed," Baccio said, adding a sarcastic smile to top it off.

Shimmy shot Baccio and Magic a nasty look before turning his head to cough into his sleeve.

This sudden sickness Shimmy had taken a huge toll on his voice. Usually, Shimmy had such a beautiful and angelic tone in everything he said and sang. No matter what came out, Lucky enjoyed hearing it. But, at this point, it sounded like Shimmy's vocal chords were just shredded. Or ground up. Either way, it was not the same voice Lucky loved to hear.

Making their way out of the room, Magic turned to Lucky and pulled him close to mutter into his ear.

"Man, you'd think Shimmy'd be the last guy on Earth to get sick, huh?" He said, making sure Shimmy or Baccio couldn't hear.

The door to Shimmy's room cracked open before Magic and Lucky could get to it.

"Hey, what's going on in here?" OJ poked his head through the open doorway. His hair was clearly messed up from sleeping and his eyes were barely open.

And, before Magic could even open his mouth, Shimmy screeched from across the room.

"YOU!" He coughed, making a third attempt to launch himself out of bed before being stopped by Baccio's hands. "You were the one who left your nasty-ass reeds all over the place for people to accidentally touch! And now look at me! You think I got sick from cleanin' anything-NO! I got sick from touchin' your GROSS MOUTH GERMS!"

"Wha-" Was all OJ could mutter this early in the day. "G-gross mouth worms?"

Magic rolled his eyes and shoved OJ out of the open door. Lucky followed close behind and shut the door slowly. Continuing to complain loudly, Shimmy was pushed back under the covers by Baccio.

"God DAMMIT, OJ," Magic turned and snapped. "You left your damn reed where Shimmy could get to it? Are you crazy?"

"I don't-" OJ rubbed his head. "I don't even remember leaving a reed out..."

Magic groaned and spun on his heels to return to his room. As for OJ, he stood there in the hallway for a bit, fidgeting with his pajamas and rocking back on his heels a bit, occasionally casting a glance back to Lucky. He made it seem as if he was preparing to say something to him, but changed his mind as he opened his mouth, and instead flashed a quick smile to Lucky before briskly walking away. Which left Lucky to stand there in front of Shimmy and Baccio's room.

Although Lucky reacted to the events that took place around him, it took a moment to register what had just happened because of the overwhelming amount of information he had to take in. And when Lucky finally did, he realized how exhausted he was. Lucky looked at his hands, seeing the rough, calloused skin around his palms and knuckles. He let his arms lay loose at his side, feeling the scars with his thumbs. Looking over to where OJ and Magic disappeared, and looking at his own room, Lucky felt that he shouldn't just leave the issue unresolved and hide away until the issue resolved itself. Or at least, when the band wasn't giving off such bad energy.

Still, Lucky was tired. His feet dragged him to the direction of the break room, where the tension between the bandmates had started. Lucky began feeling around the couch cushions looking for more reeds, but somehow, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

....

"Pass over the parsley, Magic."

"Don't you mean 'pass the grass'? Hehe."

Baccio swatted Magic and gave him a stern look.

"Pass the parsley." He said again.

Magic grumbled and rummaged through a cabinet, looking for the magic ingredient. As he continued his search, Magic became more frustrated because the spice he was looking for was nowhere to be found. Letting out a groan, he turned to Baccio and said;

"Hey, what's the big idea, we don't even have any parsley in here! Just a big cupboard full of jars, bags, and slimy shit!"

Lucky watched as Baccio made his way over to the spot where Magic was searching and started feeling around the containers and let out a chuckle.

"This is where we keep the Tupperware."

Lucky was perplexed. Wait, Why did it look like Baccio hardly knows what's inside his own cabinets? Or better yet, why didn't he just look inside the cabinet and tell him what was inside? Did he really need to mess with him for that long? Lucky tried to return to his own thoughts, but the fuss from Magic and Baccio kept catching his attention.

"The rotating spice rack is over there." Baccio pointed to a vague direction across the room. He might as well have pointed at Lucky. Actually, Baccio did point at him. Whirling his head around, he looked for anything behind him that Baccio could have been pointing at, but there was no doubt that Baccio was pointing at Lucky. Trying to clear things up, Lucky pointed at himself. Do you mean... me?

Baccio didn't seem to notice Lucky pointing at himself.

"You see? I just saw it spinning!" He then let out a big laugh and turned back to Magic, who glared at him a bit. Lucky's face grew hot and he pulled his arms closer to his chest.

"Alright, the spice cabinet is the last cabinet, and the rotating spice rack is on the bottom. You can just pull it out of there to make it easier on yourself." Magic stomped over to where Baccio instructed to and opened the cabinet. Lo and behold, there it was. The rotating spice rack.

Baccio held out his hand and Magic placed the parsley shaker in it. Before adding the herb into the bowl, Baccio popped the cap open and gave the end of the shaker a good whiff. He then held his hand out, same as before, and asked for the next herb.

"Bay leaf."

Magic pulled another bottle out from the spice rack and placed it in Baccio's hand. Once again, Baccio made sure to smell the herb before putting it in. But this time, he didn't put the herb in.

"I said bay leaf, not oregano."

"Wh-" Magic took the bottle back and looked closely at the contents. "What's the difference..?"

"What's the difference? Well, there IS a big difference in taste and texture and not to mention looks- will you just give me the damn bay leaf?"

Scrunching up his face and rolling his eyes, Magic turned back to the spice rack and pulled out a difference bottle, but with what looked like to be the same spice. He placed the new bottle in Baccio's hand.

Why doesn't he just do it himself? Why is he making Magic do all that? Lucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had too many questions on his mind right now.

"Uh, wh-what are," Lucky stammered, taking a deep breath in between words. "What are you guys making?"

"I'm making chicken soup for Shimmy. Magic's not cooking anything." Baccio said without turning to Lucky.

Lucky reached under his wig and itched his hair. "Then why is Magic helping- or, not helping? You can do this on your own, can't you?"

"Well, you're right about one thing. Magic is a mess." Baccio continued as if he was quoting someone. "Magic is a waste, and everybody knows it."

As Baccio said this, Magic whirled around to shout a retort at him. "HEY! FUCK YOU!"

Baccio erupted in laughter from Magic's sudden shout. Pouting a bit at first, a smile slowly spread across Magic's face and he joined Baccio in a chortle.

Their laughter died down and they both looked at Lucky, realizing that he still had no idea what either of them was joking about, or why they were laughing so hard. Both of their smiles faded as they looked back at each other. Baccio was the first to speak up.

"You don't know?"

Lucky shook his head no.

Magic and Baccio gave each other another look before returning back to Lucky.

"... Do you wanna know why I always wear these shades indoors all the time, even at night? It's a secret that's well kept within the band, because of the deadly serious nature of it."

A mix of concern and fear drained the color from Lucky's face, and he tensed his body to prepare him for the worst. "I p-promise I won't tell a soul."

Baccio approached Lucky and firmly grasped his shoulder. "I've been dead since the day I turned 22. I have no feeling in my body whatsoever, and every day is a struggle to get my soul to pilot this decaying corpse you see before you. I never found out how or why this happened, but I'm still trying to function in society as a normal, living breathing human being. Not even my family knows. I left them behind when I first found out because I was too afraid to reveal the truth. My senses are slowly fading, and I need people like Shimmy to keep me grounded. But now that he's sick, I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to stay attached to this body."

Lucky blinked slowly. ...What? Really? Then why is his hand so warm?

Magic jabbed Baccio in the side. "Dude, stop screwing with him! Stop screwing with everybody while you're at it."

"No, Magic. I'm-" Baccio snickered to himself as he reached for his glasses. "I'm dead serious." He took them off, revealing a pair of clouded, dead eyes.

Lucky stumbled back in horror. W-what?! He wasn't kidding! H-how- how did this happen?

He was so buried in his own thoughts and anxiety that he didn't even know what was happening around him. The room began shaking as Lucky attempted to cry out for help, but no noise came out.

"...No, I really just am fucking with you, dude. I'm just blind, c-calm down, are you okay?!"

Lucky was still taken aback by the shock of what he had believed, he didn't even hear Baccio tell him the truth. The feeling in his chest seemed to disappear and his head spun around, making the world around him blur together. Baccio placed his other hand on Lucky's shoulder for support as he fought to get air back into his lungs. He started shaking Lucky's shivering body, trying in vain to snap his friend back into reality.

"Dude, I told you not to mess with him!"

Baccio rolled his eyes at Magic's comment and continued reassuring Lucky. "I'm blind, buddy! I'm not dead, I swear! I can see blobs of blurred colors and shapes; it's just low vision! I'm alright really! Here, check my pulse!" He grabbed Lucky's hand and held it to the inside of his elbow. Surely enough, Lucky did feel the blood pumping through Baccio's body. Lucky's own blood started flowing back into his face.

"Wha-wow Baccio, I had no idea you were blond. ..I-I mean blind!" Wow, I really am clueless, Lucky thought to himself. He should have at least picked up on the fact that Baccio didn't use sheet music; it wasn't because he couldn't read it, it was because he couldn't read. Period. Lucky began to wonder how long it had been like this for him, and if it hurts him the same way his leg would occasionally get lightning bolts of pain.

"Well," Baccio placed his shades back on his face. "It's technically called 'low vision' but it's... It's whatever. I might as well be blind."

Lucky steadied himself back on his feet, straightened up his back and looked at Baccio's eyes through his dark glasses. No wonder he wore those all the time, Lucky thought to himself. Barely visible behind his shades, Baccio's eyes were half closed and unfocused, staring off into a general direction that would most likely be where Lucky's face would be. Lucky felt his heart move in empathy. It would have been obvious to anyone who came close enough to him to see through his glasses, and it would even be a little unsettling or unnerving to find out that the drummer of the famous DCMC had low vision. When the first public band performance happens, will it be more obvious for others to see that Lucky was disabled when he hobbled onstage?

"I guess we're more similar than I thought."

This comment caught Baccio by surprise. "Lucky, I'm pretty sure you're not blind."

"N-no that not what I meant, I," Lucky shifted his stance so he was more comfortable on his feet. "I don't really like this word, but it's the only one that's coming to mind; we're both disabled. And whether we like it or not, for good or for bad, people are gonna treat us differently than others. Sometimes people forget or don't notice that you are different, and others will ignore it and expect you to do things that you just... can't. Just because you're on your feet doesn't mean you're not struggling. It's really hard. I'm just... really happy that I know someone else who knows what it's like."

There was a long pause. Both Baccio and Magic were completely silent as they stared at Lucky.

D-did I say something wrong? Why aren't they saying anything? Oh geez, I must've said something I bet they hate me now-

Suddenly, a smile crept along Baccio's face. A large, genuine smile.

Baccio turned to Magic and whacked him across the shoulder.

"Get back over there and chop carrots, you shit." Baccio laughed. Magic grumbled and made his way back over to the counter on the other side of the room. Turning back to Lucky, Baccio gave Lucky another smile; one that was smaller, but more sincere.

Likewise, there was something so calming in the look Baccio gave to Lucky. Something relaxing and accepting and... Nice. It eased Lucky's tense body and made him feel almost at home. It made him feel like everything he said was right. Like there was nothing wrong in the world.

Was this a new friend for Lucky? Who knows! Lucky definitely noticed a change in character. The first time he was introduced to Baccio, he barely gave Lucky a nod. Hell, he barely gave him a proper "Hello". This was absolutely a change. And yet, as Baccio turned to return to the counter, Lucky felt as if he still had a lot to learn from everyone. These few short months have gone by in a flash and he still had a whole career in front of him. However, progress was being made. And Lucky felt at peace.

.....

It's easy to notice how noisy the floorboards can be when you're trying to be careful and quiet while walking on them. This was the one thought that kept running through Lucky's head as he carried the soup through the hallway with Magic, trying his best not to spill any or wake up Shimmy, ruining the surprise. He didn't know why, but Lucky was extremely critical in the way that Magic was somehow making so much noise, even when Baccio explicitly told both of them to be as quiet as possible. Did Magic really not know how to silence his footsteps? Why this was such a concern to Lucky was beyond him. But his concerns grew when Magic started making conversation about how noisy he was.

"You know, I'm wicked excited for the new tiles that this place is gonna get. I've got no idea who first made this place, but it's like they made it like they were running away from civilization or something because these wooden floors don't help when you're trying to be quiet. Running away from civilization- that would be crazy, right?" Lucky tried to raise his finger to his lips to motion that Magic shouldn't wake Shimmy with his chatter, but he stopped himself before he could spill the bowl of soup that he was carrying. "I've stubbed my toe so many times in this place- I hope there's a lot of cool colors when the painters come in!" Magic's voice escalated in volume and his sentences became more and more disjointed as he continued to walk towards their destination. Magic wasn't trying to be very quiet anymore. "But there's some new waitresses that the boss is hiring! Do you think they'll be lesbians too? If they are, then I won't have much luck. But you have luck, right Lucky? Do you ever stub your toe on your bass? I'm not as lucky as you, so I stub my toe a lot-"

Lucky looked behind him for Baccio. He was standing two doors down from where Magic and Lucky had stopped, right where Shimmy and his room was placed. Noticing that he turned around, Baccio pressed his ear against the door, paused, and nodded as he gave Lucky a thumbs up. Their noise didn't wake up Shimmy after all.

Sighing, Lucky closed his eyes and turned back to Magic again. "I would love to talk to you about all this stuff after practice, but could you-" Magic raised his hand to knock on the door. "We should be a little more... quiet-"

"Can you please try to quiet down? I need to concentrate and, Magic, I love hearing your voice and all, but I really need to focus."

OJ had opened the door just as Magic was going to knock on it, so he knocked on OJ's forehead instead.

"OW! What the- Magic, what's going on?" Irritated, OJ swatted Magic's fist out of his face, pen and paper still in hand from whatever task he was preoccupied with before. Because OJ opened the door before they were both ready, the door had hidden both Lucky and the soup from OJ. Putting his hands on his hips, OJ glared at Magic waiting for an explanation.

"Oh shit- uh, sorry OJ! Didn't see ya there. So, here's the thing... Baccio and I had a plan to make Shimmy some soup, so he'd get better. We were originally gonna bring it to him ourselves, but Shimmy still thinks that you were the one that made him sick. So Lucky-" OJ stuck his head out the door and started searching for Lucky at the mention of his name. "...Lucky and I brought over the soup so you could bring it to Shimmy yourself."

Lucky shuffled out from behind the door and showed OJ the bowl of soup. But OJ didn't even seem to acknowledge the bowl. Actually, Lucky noticed OJ attempt to hold in a large smile as he eyed him. Was he even paying attention to what Magic said?

"Oh, hey Lucky!" OJ stared off into space for a second trying to remember what he was doing before he had opened the door. Suddenly, OJ had remembered what he wanted to tell both of them.

OJ turned to Magic and flicked his pen at him. "Sorry, Magic. I really don't feel like that would be the best idea. Right now, Shimmy is so pissed that he doesn't want to see my face, so if I tried to deliver something in person-" OJ made a whistling noise as he shook his pen around before throwing it back behind him. "You get it?" Magic did not get it. They looked at each other for a few seconds before OJ continued. "Well, I was planning on writing Shimmy a little somethin' somethin' and then slipping it under his door to look at whenever he wanted to." OJ began to close his door. "So, I'll just finish that up right now, ok?"

A small, uncomfortable noise came out the back of Lucky's throat. Not knowing quite what to do, he turned around to see if Baccio would help out. But he was already charging full speed towards the door. Baccio maneuvered carefully around Lucky, making sure not to spill any of the bowls contents, and firmly grasped OJ's door handle. The door was easily swung open and OJ was now back out in the hallway. It was easy to see how commanding Baccio was around the rest of the group; he pretty much towered over the band leader.

"Take the soup, motherfucker" was all he had to say.

OJ inhaled deeply and loosened his grip on the door handle.

"... Can I finish my apology note first?" He grinned forcefully.

"No."

OJ let out a sigh and ducked around Baccio to get to Lucky. As he reached up to take the bowl, his fingers brushed up against Lucky's hand nd lingered there for a split second. OJ and Lucky shared a surprised glance at each other and then quickly looked away. Now that OJ finally had the soup, he made his way down the hall to Shimmy's room. He stopped at the door, one hand carrying the bowl and the other hanging limp at his side, and turned to look back at Baccio, Magic, and Lucky. With a quick flick of his wrist, Magic motioned for OJ to continue. OJ sighed again and made his way into Shimmy's room, making sure to quietly close the door behind the door behind him.


	5. Lucky's fucking dead, dude.

Cautious notes floated through Lucky's room. He was all alone in his practice session so he had no guidance to tell him what to do and if he was doing it right. However, because there was no one else in his room, he felt calmer. The thousands of eyes that seemed to follow him were gone, and a relaxing and warm atmosphere hugged him like a warm blanket. Lucky found solace in solitude.

Though he wished that he had someone to guide him and encourage him through the difficult areas.

Magic mentioned yesterday that Lucky probably didn't need his help anymore. Which made sense; Lucky had been learning for the past several months and had finally gotten use to reading music fluently. But, now that Magic wasn't in the room to decipher his own handwriting, Lucky was having a difficult time doing it on his own. At some points, it wasn't necessary to read the chicken scratch on the paper, but, when Magic had gone as far as to cross out notes and other markings, it was completely unreadable. All Lucky could do was scrunch his face and move on.

His hands moved up and down the bass as he played the notes that became familiar to him with all of his practice and hard work. The scars on his fingers healed, and in their place, Lucky's fingers were hard and calloused. His hands floated over his bass with ease, and Lucky became easily lost within his own music only looking back at the music when he needed to count the rests or check the key signature. Unfortunately, this threw him off when he saw that most of the paper was covered in Magic's notes.

Even though Lucky was grateful that Magic helped him out for all this time, his shapeless scribbles did make him frustrated. It would've been easier on Lucky if he wrote the notes himself, but Magic was so quick to the draw that Lucky didn't even have time to pick up the pencil. And thus, the shit-storm was born.

What the hell was Magic trying to say? All his reminders and arrows and shapes made no sense. How am I suppose to practice if I cant even read my own music?

Lucky threw his head back and groaned. Why was this so difficult for him?

A knock came at the door followed by OJ's voice; "Everything alright in there?"

Lucky popped his head up. Oh no, was I making that much noise?

"Uh, yeah. I'm just practicing; that's all." Lucky gripped his bass a little tighter. Something inside him wanted OJ to come in and help, but something else was... Well...

"Do you need any help?"

No no no don't come in don't look at me please don't come in-

"Well, I-uh- I actually need.. Yeah..."

The door was open before Lucky could take anything back. And, now, the solitude was broken by OJ's presence. There was nothing wrong with OJ coming into the room and helping Lucky, but he was still very uneasy about being near anyone.

"Alright," OJ rested one arm against Lucky's stand. "What'cha need help with?"

"I-I can't read Magic's handwriting," Lucky rubbed the back of his neck. "and I was wondering if you could help... translate?"

Coming around to face the stand, OJ's entire expression changed. The pure shock and horror that crept along OJ's face caused Lucky to fear for his own life.

"What the fuck!?" OJ snatched the paper off the stand and held it closer to his face. "What did Magic do to my music!?"

Lucky recoiled behind his bass. Even though OJ wasn't yelling at him, the fact that he was yelling scared him.

"No wonder you're not able to read this!" OJ scoffed. He pulled out the pencil balancing from his ear and flipped it around in his fingers. "Here, I'll fix it up for you."

Lucky was preparing to move out of the way so OJ could reach the stand easier, but OJ wasn't uncomfortable with getting closer to him. Lucky was about to tell OJ that he could always rotate the music stand to get a better look at it, but he had a feeling that OJ probably knew that anyways.

"The bad news is, not all of this stuff Magic wrote is in pencil, but that's alright... I think. The good news is that I've known him for long enough that i can discern most of his handwriting and tell you what his weird symbols mean."

OJ put one hand on the stand to keep it from shaking while he erased some of the pencil markings. Some of the indentations where Magic originally wrote something was still there, but OJ began writing over it in magnificent and confidant handwriting, the same words that Magic wrote but legible.

"So, uh..." OJ continued rewriting Magic's mess. "Did you hear about the new waitresses?"

It was painfully obvious that OJ was just trying to engage in small talk. Lucky, however, did not know how to react. He simply nodded his head.

"Yeah, I heard the three of 'em are suppose to finally be settled in today."

Lucky nodded again. He wanted to say something and continue the conversation but nothing came to mind. How can anyone do this?

"Hm." OJ hummed. "I haven't heard much else about them. Owners don't like to tell me anything. Hell, it'd be nice to get a 'hello' from them every once in a while, you know what I mean?"

"I-I guess..."

How was Lucky suppose to know? OJ's the leader and he wasn't getting information. Lucky was just the bassist.

As OJ finished with the notes, he tapped his writing twice with his pencil.

"Yeah, It's easy to get lost in repetitive notes right here, so Magic wrote down, 'DON'T SLOW DOWN!' like he was shouting at you, but i rewrote it with a 'please' at the top." Lucky didn't understand how that new addition would help that much, but he appreciated it anyways. He was also glad that OJ's forced small talk was finally over-

"Anyways, how's the music coming along? Are you understanding the instrument a bit more with Magic helping you?" OJ sputtered.

That was short lived.

Lucky stared at him blankly for a few moments before realizing that OJ was expecting an answer. Which struck Lucky as a strange thing to ask, because OJ must've heard him playing through the hall and would have noticed the frustrated noises he was making every once in a while. He forced awkward smile, glanced around his own room, and then gave a thumbs up. This must have been enough for OJ; he gave Lucky a broad, genuine smile.

OJ turned the music and saw that half of the page was covered in writing of different colored pencils and pens, covering most of the pages they were on and making the notes hard to read. Both of them just stood there and stared at the pages for a while, taking in the chaos that Magic had brought unto Lucky's music.

"Hah, oh man..." OJ laughed as he leaned in to continue fixing Magic's colorful eyesore. "I need a bigger eraser... I'm sorry about Magic; he's a mess."

As Lucky opened his mouth to respond to OJ, the room went dark. Completely black actually. Lucky yet out a yelp as the darkness trapped him.

"Whoa, whoa! Lucky," Lucky felt OJ's hands feel around his arms and back. "You alright?"

Even Lucky didn't know he was okay. He felt like the dark was choking him.

"I guess...?" He lied.

"Must've been a blackout. That's odd..."

Both Lucky and OJ went silent. From Lucky's current position, he knew where the door was even though he couldn't see it. Getting out was only a matter of safely putting his bass away and maneuvering around the stand.

Suddenly, Lucky heard quiet groaning coming from somewhere in the club.

"Uhh..." Now Lucky's hands were getting sweaty. "W-was that you, OJ?"

"I thought that was you."

"N-nuh uh..."

There it was again. Groaning that echoed through the room and even through the whole club. But this time, it was followed by a high-pitched cackling.

"Ah-ah-a-OJ...?" Lucky's words were becoming more and more disjointed as his body shook more and more.

The darkness laughed again, but this time, with an eerie tinge to it..

Loud footsteps came barreling down the hallway soon after the laugh. When the footsteps stopped, the wall shook from a large body hitting it. Lucky swore he heard a familiar voice swearing from behind it...

Another wall thump later and the knob to Lucky's door rattled violently and clicked as the door itself flew open.

"Lucky! Dude, are you alright?" It was Magic. He came barreling down the hallway and slammed into the wall just to make sure Lucky was okay. "There's been a blackout but don't worry! Wait, never mind. Yeah, I think this clubs haunted dude so..."

"Magic, this club isn't haunted." OJ sighed.

"O-OJ? What the... What are you doing in Lucky's room, dude?"

Lucky inhaled sharply. "Uh, he was, uh, we were-"

"Oh! Lucky, you are in here-"

Magic stopped. He let out a few soft hums and chuckles.

"Well, well, well, OJ." Lucky could feel Magic's mocking tone from where he was standing. "I didn't think you and Lucky were-"

"I was helping him with his music, you fuck." OJ groaned.

"Oh yeah, 'helping him' I'm sure."

"Shut up and give us some light."

"Oh right."

There was a sharp clapping noise and two hands rubbing against each other, and then erupted from Magic;

"PK-FIRE!"

To say that Magic's PSI ability was underwhelming would be an understatement. The flame that was inside of Magic's cupped hands was as small as a lit match, and it barely illuminated the outlines of the three people in the room. But Lucky can't remember ever seeing someone use PSI before, and conjuring a flame from spoken words was nothing short of magic to his eyes.

However, OJ was anything but impressed with Magic's ability.

"... Really? Is that the best you have?"

"Yeah, I'd like to see you do better." Magic snarled and rolled his eyes.

At this point, Lucky knew he couldn't do better, so what Magic had in his hands right now was incredible. He stood awe-struck for a few moments, not even hearing some of Magic and OJ's bickering. There was something so mesmerizing about it.

"Magic, the club isn't haunted-"

"Yes it IS, OJ! Didn't you hear those laughs? It's a ghost, I KNOW it!"

"That could've been anything! Hell, it could've been you!"

"It wasn't, I swear! Shimmy told me there's a ghost in this club-"

"OH, Shimmy told you? Really now?"

Lucky was brought back to reality when Shimmy was mentioned. Wait, Shimmy said there's a ghost? Really? It didn't make any sense. Shimmy was usually the voice of reason in situations like these but, for him to tell something so surreal, something felt off.

"It's true!" Magic waved his hands around, being careful not to put out his flame. "Shimmy said that this club was built on an old burial ground and that the ghosts haunt this place! That's why the lights went out! That's why there's weird voices around the club!"

OJ let out a groan and folded his arms.

Magic looked at Lucky, hoping to get something out of him. "You believe me, right Luckster?"

Lucky curled his fingers around and avoided eye contact with Magic.

"Well, I-uh... I guess...?"

"Alright!" Magic jumped. He was getting way too excited about this. "Let's go ghost busting then!"

He began to bolt back down the hallway eagerly, leaving Lucky and OJ back in the dark.

'W-wait, Magic!"

"Magic, don't leave us in the dark!"

"Oh," Magic stopped and returned back to the doorway, light and all. "Yeah, right. Sorry."

...

The club was a lot scarier when all the lights were all off. And, while there was still some light coming from Magic and a few waitresses who had flashlights, the shadows around every bend and curve scared the hell out of Lucky. He wrapped his fingers around the edges of his shirt, trying to find something to cling on to. Just then, Magic's small flame blipped out of existence. And with the disappearance of the light, the world vanished as well.

The darkness crept back also meant Magic had an opportunity to complain about his splitting headache the rest of the way down the hallway. He claimed he knew where he was going when he said he'd lead OJ and Lucky to find the 'ghosts', but now he was just leading them into dead ends. And, occasionally, a wall or waitress. Well, Magic was the one running into walls and people. He was too busy rubbing his temples to look where he was going. OJ and Lucky saw enough from the waitresses flashlights to not run into anything.

In between the loud complaints from Magic, he continued to talk about the ghost stories that Shimmy told him. But, as Magic claimed, they weren't stories. Most of the claims were about angry ghosts haunting others until they left or killed themselves, others were about ghosts messing around with the environment. All together, however, they just seemed like stories meant to scare others.

"-And then the ghosts would pretend like they were going to show them the way out, but then they tricked them! And ate their bodies!"

"You're an idiot." OJ butt in.

"Nuh uh, this is all true!" Magic whined. "You think Shimmy would lie about something like that?"

OJ cackled at Magic's pathetic attempt to prove himself. In return, Magic stuck out his tongue playfully, revealing his shiny tongue piercing.

Lucky was confused as to why OJ didn't believe Magic. He was the only person Lucky really trusted and he didn't even know him for as long as OJ. As well as not believing him, he were also treating poor Magic like garbage, and that's what really confused Lucky. Is this what friendship is? Making fun of others? This didn't seem right.

While in the midst of his own thoughts, Lucky jumped at the sound of the high-pitched laughter. Actually, everyone jumped at the sound. The laughter was even louder than before, echoing through the hallway and resonated for a few moments. Seconds after, a voice cut through the silence;

"Feeding time."

Lucky was about ready to scream. Magic, however, did scream.

OJ must have noticed that Lucky was visibly shaking as well. It wasn't hard to miss though. Lucky was trying so hard to control his breathing and relax his muscles but the whole ghost scare just caused him to shake violently. And the darkness couldn't hide it any longer.

"Hey, Lucky..."

Lucky was taken back from OJ's voice. Even though it was soft and reassuring, it still spooked him.

"I-if you're scared, you can hold my hand..."

The outline of OJ's hand became visible and Lucky recoiled slightly. Hold... OJ's hand? Could I...? His palms were still sweaty. And, although he desperately wanted to squeeze OJ's hand, he felt it would slip out from all the perspiration.

"Uh, I-I-" Lucky gripped his upper arms tighter. "I th-think I'm ok... Thank you, O-OJ..."

"I'll hold your hand, dude."

All of a sudden, Magic extended an arm to grab onto OJ's hand. Lucky felt like the meat in a third-wheel sandwich.

With the different types of tension between everyone in this group, someone was bound to disrupt their chaotic embrace. Fortunately, it was a third-party intervention.

Two figures were standing at the end of the hall, hand in hand, almost identical in every way. They looked at each other and back to Lucky and company. In complete synchronization, the two of them slowly started making their way across the hall, and sped up as they closed in on them. Fear shot through the three of them as the two figures sped forward; Magic and OJ clung together in horror and all Lucky could do was duck down and hope that his death is swift. When they were close enough to see the details on their face, the group could see that they were not the source of the noise. In fact, these two girls were just as scared as the rest of them were. They were both white brunettes, most likely identical twins, and they were both frantically talking over each other in their fear.

"What are you three doing? We should be looking for the power... thingy- OH GOD, DID YOU YEAR THAT? WE THINK IT WAS A GHOST- I can't believe something like this happened on our first day, what should we-WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?! OUR FIRST JOB EVER AND- Do you think if we throw salt over our shoulders it will go away?

OJ's grip on Magic's hand must have loosened as he realized who the two of them were, because Lucky had sensed them move farther apart from each other.

So, these are the new waitresses, not the ghost, Lucky thought to himself. 

Nobody moved. Everyone seemed to afraid to even talk to the waitresses ahead of them.

Magic forcefully nudged OJ.

"You do something, OJ! You're the band leader! Say something to reassure the newbies!" Magic loudly whispered to OJ.

OJ broke free of Magic and stepped forward awkwardly. He was clearly not ready.

"Uh." OJ sputtered for a few moments. Almost as if a switch had been flipped, OJ had the same confidence as he did on stage in front of the rest of the band. "Don't worry, ladies!" He said, flipping his matted hair around. "We'll get the power back in no time." OJ paused. "I am strong and I will protect you."

Magic slapped his hand against his face and groaned.

Almost as soon as he had done this, what sounded like a giant switch had been flipped, and the lights in the clubs were back on with a buzz. Because of the time they spent in the darkness, the fluorescent lighting was blinding and many off them rubbed their eyes until they could see clearly. But the light wasn't getting any less harsh. And the buzzing wouldn't stop. The noise grew louder and louder and pounded against Lucky's eardrums until tears flowed down his face from the pain. The light pierced through Lucky's eyelids, and made his hands glow a fiery red when he tried to use them as a shield.

CRACK!

Sparks rained from the lights above them as the world faded back into darkness once more. Screams rang out through the hallway, and Lucky shielded his face from the glass and fire that singed the hair and clothes on his body. Glancing around at the embers around his feet, Lucky got a final look of his surroundings before the club faded back into darkness. But this was not a regular darkness. This was... total darkness.

Lucky heard thumps in the darkness as someone got up off of the ground and brushed their clothing off, and then began to speak.

"Is everyone alright? I think someone fell down." OJ said.

The only reply OJ received was a hacking cough from one of the waitresses, and an "are you okay?" from the other.

This is bad, Lucky thought to himself. Do the other waitresses still have their flashlights? Lucky looked around him, but there was not even the faintest flicker of their dim flashlights in the darkness. Oh no oh no, this is bad, what are we gonna- wait, are those lights?

In the opposite hall where they had found the two waitresses, there was a pair of tiny, glowing orbs. Lucky cautiously took a step forward, and the lights seemed to have moved forward as well. Thinking that whoever these people are might have more flashlights to spare, Lucky continued towards them.

The flashlights they were using were faint and warmly tinted, so it's possible that the ones they're using are their last ones. Lucky thought it would only make sense if he asked beforehand.

"E-excuse me? Are those flashlights your last ones?" Lucky said, walking in the direction of the lights. "I was wondering if we could borrow one if you don't have any spare."

They didn't answer.

Lucky began sweating and slowed his pace. As the two lights came closer towards him, he saw that they has an unearthly intensity to them, and they were glowing in a warm red color. Lucky stopped in his tracks. Fear gripped his stomach and his heart jumped into his throat as he realized that those were not flashlights.

Those glowing red orbs were eyes.

"It's feeding time!"

Lucky's eyes dropped to the place directly below the floating eyes, where he saw a pair of sharp teeth gaping open, glistening from the illumination from the creature's red eyes.

The echoes of the ghost's ghastly laughter carried through the entire club that night.


	6. GG (Git Ghosts)

Lucky stumbled backward as he saw the sharp rows of teeth illuminated in the darkness, a crazed look in the ghost's eyes as it let out laugh that would cause blood to boil. The most horrifying part of the ghost wasn't the fact that it was changing the temperature of the room to an unnerving heat, or the glowing red eyes, or even the fangs that the ghost bared. It was that Lucky was alone. There was no one there to help him and there was nothing that he could see in the long hallway that could have helped him. The void has ensnared Lucky, and he was floating in utter darkness with the most terrifying creature that he has ever encountered. Lucky groped around in the darkness looking for a wall to steady himself on, but as his hand touched the wall closest to him, he recoiled in pain. A searing pain shot through his arm and Lucky held back a yelp of pain. For some reason, a voice deep inside Lucky told him that he shouldn't let the enemy hear his pain because that would let them know they had the upper hand.

Wait... enemy? Lucky wasn't fighting it, and he didn't plan on it either. I just need to distract the ghost, and then I can run away and warn the others. He clenched his fist, but quickly unclenched them; it felt as though he was gripping hot coals. Yeah... There's no way I can fight this ghost. I need to get out of here as fast as possible.

But Lucky couldn't make a move to escape the ghost quick enough, and it lurched toward him, teeth bared and eyes wild.

Just then, a switch was flipped in Lucky's brain. It felt as though someone else was controlling his body, and his normal thoughts were glazed over and replaced with one thing.

Keep fighting until your last breath.

Instincts took over as he dodged the attack and slammed into the other wall. He was relieved that it didn't burn his entire side. The ghost turned to face Lucky, surprised that he didn't faint or run away. Lucky took this opportunity to throw a punch at the ghost, which missed easily, despite it being the only visible target. It grinned and let out another cackle that echoed throughout the halls, mocking him. He threw another punch and missed again. The ghost must have been getting tired of this because the room suddenly became unbearably hot. Beads of sweat dripped down Lucky's back and his body groaned in protest, but he threw another punch. It missed.

This isn't working... Lucky thought to himself, looking over his shoulder. I don't know how to fight, what am I trying to do? I need to run...

Again, the voice came back. Whoever it was, they were telling Lucky that he wouldn't be able to get away if he ran now.

You know what to do. Keep fighting.

Lucky turned back to the ghost and was shocked to see its eyes changing color. They softened to magenta for a few moments, and the room started to cool down. But what was originally a pleasant coolness spiked into a freezing chill. The ghost's eyes were now an icy blue, and it's cold stare pierced into Lucky's soul as it made it's way towards him again.

The ghost ducked under another one of Lucky's attacks, this time looking concerned, even a bit fearful.

What was different this time? Lucky thought to himself and then realized that he had attacked with his leg this time.

But... with my bad leg?

Lucky swung his leg at the ghost's eyes again, and it stumbled backward to avoid getting hit. As Lucky continued attacking the ghost, it retreated farther and farther away from him into the dark, so much that even without his sight, Lucky could tell that they were moving down the hallway and they would eventually hit a dead end. The ghost knew this too, and it glanced at the ground before its eyes flashed again.

This time, Lucky's body burned with a new sensation. An icy pain wrapped around the foot that Lucky had been swinging at the ghost, and it was growing stronger with every second that he had it on the ground. He acted fast. Balancing on the balls of his right foot, Lucky lifted his left leg above the ground to stop the spread of the ice. But his foot became numb. His heart beat faster than ever before, and he feared that there was no way of stopping this ghost from giving him frostbite, and even killing him, which it would easily be capable of doing.

Seizing its opportunity, the ghost rushed at him. Lucky braced himself and guarded his face with his forearms as he met a gust of air so cold, it felt like he was breathing in microscopic shards of glass. The brunt of the damage was taken by the back of his arms when he defended himself, so even though his body was much safer than it would have been if he was caught off guard, he could hardly feel his arms anymore. They dropped down to Lucky's sides and hung limp.

As soon as Lucky could get his bearings, the ghost was charging at him again.

This is it. Blood was pumping so fast though Lucky's ears that he could hardly hear his own thoughts. This next attack is my last chance at staying alive.

Lucky took a deep breath in. Time slowed down and in that moment, Lucky made a split second decision. Still balancing on his right foot, Lucky lowered his body to the ground. And as time sped up again, Lucky was a tightened coil, positioned and ready to explode. Before the ghost had the opportunity to attack again, Lucky swung his left foot at it with blinding speed.

It completely missed the ghost's face.

But Lucky's name wasn't just for show. Even though his foot didn't make contact with the ghost's face, it made contact with the invisible body of the ghost attacking him. And when Lucky's foot finally met the ghost, he followed through and put every ounce of his strength into his attack.

SMAAAASH!

...

The ghost's face fell to the floor and the glow from its eyes and teeth went out. Lucky stood tall.

The voice inside him spoke one last time.

"That was good, but you should've done that from the start, you moron."

His ears buzzed as the atmosphere warmed up from a piercing cold to a cool chill, and then back to its regular room temperature. All the tension in the air seemed to disappear with the ghost. Nothing moved or made any sound. Lucky's hands dropped to his knees as he bent over for a gasp of air. His jumbled thoughts settled as more air filled his sore lungs, and with the unclouded mind came the return of all his senses. Cries for help rang throughout the hallway. The intense pains burned his arm once again. His eyes watered and his body shook and everything around him seemed empty and hollow.

OJ! Lucky shot his head up and began frantically looking around the dark hallway. W-where's OJ and Magic?

The screaming and crying that echoed around all blended together into one big mess of sound. Lucky wanted to just call out for the two but his breathing was too choppy and frantic to let out anything. He didn't trust his voice either. But... he thought he heard Magic's voice from somewhere...

Lucky slowly turned his head. It sounded like it was right behind him.

"Mah-m-m-" Lucky huffed. Boy, talking sure is hard. "M-mah-Magic..?"

No response.

"M-Magic?" Lucky said a bit louder.

A shuffle came from behind him. A shuffle, a few bonks, soft curses, and then;

"Lucky?!"

Lucky relaxed at the sound of Magic's voice cutting through the darkness.

"Lucky, holy crap, are you alright? Shit dude, we thought that thing was EATING you! Man, we were ready for the worst and everything! I mean, like, -Dude, OJ, get up- we tried to get away but we knew it was over and OJ and I were ready for death and everything! B-but you're ok! Oh man, I can't believe you're ok!... Where are you?"

Not even Lucky knew where he was. All the lights were out for good and all the flashlights were dead. Lucky reached his hand out toward where he thought the wall was, careful to not burn his hand again. And this time, the wall he met was cool to the touch.

"Uh, I-I'll move over to you..." Lucky called out. He carefully shuffled along the end of the wall, reaching his other hand out to grab onto Magic, or anything else, that came into grasping length. And, as he edged farther down the wall, OJ's and Magic's voice became clearer.

"OJ, OJ, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I think I'm ok..."

"Dude, what the hell was that ghost's deal anyway? Next time that thing come around here I'll-"

"You'll beat the shit outta it? How are you gonna fight a ghost, huh?"

"... I don't know but I'll find a way."

As Lucky continued shuffling forward, his other hand finally met with the shoulder of... someone?

"Magic?" He said, moving his hand around to get a better grip.

"Mm, yeah?" Magic responded.

"Oh thank goodness." Lucky lunged forward and wrapped both his arms around Magic. "Hah... I'm so glad I found you..."

Something about Magic's presence made Lucky feel a lot calmer. He squeezed Magic a bit tighter and began to control his breathing. Even Magic's smells calmed Lucky. There was something just so familiar in the smell of hairspray and soda mixed with deodorant and brass and cork grease and...

Wait a second.

"Lucky, dude, I'm glad you're alright too... but I still don't know where you are, man."

Oh no.

"Don't worry. He's right here with me." OJ chuckled.

Lucky could feel OJ straighten up under him and that's when it hit him.

"Oh my gosh," Lucky jumped back and bumped into the wall behind him. "Ohmygoshohmygosh I-I'm so sorry I-I-I didn't know it was y-you I'm sorry I-" Lucky's face grew hot as his words became more and more disjointed. He was glad no one could see his bright red face.

"Hey, it's alright!" OJ laughed again.

Lucky rolled his shoulders forward and curled his arms up. I should've known it was Magic. I should've made sure first. I shouldn't have clung on like that. What was I thinking?

A hand brushed up under Lucky's elbow. It pulled him forward, away from the wall, and rolled his arm outwards until his hand touched... something else? It felt like some fabric, but Lucky wasn't too sure. He also didn't know what was going on.

"There's Magic for ya, Lucky," OJ said, letting go of Lucky's elbow.

Oh! Lucky wrapped his hand around Magic's arm. Oh, thank goodness...

"Ay, there you are, buddy!" Magic curled his arm around and placed his hand on Lucky's forearm.

Lucky smiled. His face was still warm from his encounter with OJ but was beginning to relax.

"So, uh," Magic clicked his tongue piercing against his teeth a few times. "... What now?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure all the lights blew out," OJ said. "so I guess we should find more light somewhere-"

"WAIT!" Magic almost screamed, causing Lucky to flinch.

OJ groaned. "Holy shit, Magic, please don't scream."

"Dude, dude. Where's Baccio 'n' Shimmy, dude?"

Everyone paused. No one's seen either of them since before the incident started.

"What if they're dead, dude?"

"They're not dead, Magic. Come on-"

"No, really! I mean, that ghost almost got Lucky! What if it got Baccio 'n' Shimmy? I think we should at least check on them, man!"

OJ paused for a moment.

"Alright, alright. Let's go find them."

A few shuffles and Magic began slowly moving forward, bringing Lucky with him. And thus, the hunt for Baccio and Shimmy began.

The dark hallway seemed endless. The black void stretched on forever but Magic seemed to know where he was going. So, Lucky followed closely. As the three continued onward, calls for help and endless cries became quieter. Soon, the ringing and buzzing in Lucky's ears were all he could hear. That and a few comments here and there from Magic. He seemed able to talk about anything that was happening at any given moment. It was incredible.

"Man, I really hope Baccio 'n' Shimmy are ok, dude. I mean, we haven't seen either of them since this morning. It's a little weird how they just disappeared like that, don't'cha think? What if that ghost DID get them? You'd have to hire a new keyboardist and drummer then, OJ. Hah! Oh man, remember when we first got together dude? Man, that was gay as hell-"

"Wait, I see a light."

Everyone stopped. And sure enough, there it was. Lucky squinted his eyes to get a better look at the faint strip of light coming from what he thought was the floor.

"I betcha Shimmy 'n' Baccio are in there."

Magic hummed. "Maybe... Or maybe the ghost is in there..."

"Magic, come on-"

"You remember the crazy light it was givin' off! It could be trying to lure us in-WAIT."

This time, Magic did scream.

"MAGIC come on dude, quit screaming in my ear!"

"Dudedudedudedude-I know how to BEAT THE GHOST!"

Magic suddenly yanked his arm out of Lucky's grip and ran down the hallway. And Lucky was alone again.

"I don't know how that man has so much energy." OJ chuckled. Lucky's heart softened at the sound of his voice. At least he wasn't completely alone.

A few clicks and turns later and the door in front of them was pulled open. Dim light flooded the dark hallway. All the shapes in front of Lucky came into view as his eyesight adjusted to the faint light. OJ's blond, messy hair, the worn-out wallpaper, his burnt arm-

Holy crap! Lucky was taken back at the sight of his severe burns. I didn't think it was that bad! Crap...

He looked back up at OJ to make sure he didn't hear his audible gasp. And, luckily, OJ didn't appear to notice.

And neither did Shimmy and Baccio, who just happened to be sitting in the room ahead of OJ.

"Well, there you guys are," OJ said as Shimmy and Baccio quietly greeted the two. Lucky, however, was a bit off-put by the encounter. Shimmy and Baccio seemed just a bit to calm for what's been happening in the past thirty minutes. "Magic was thinkin' you two were attacked by the ghost or somethin'."

"I heard," Shimmy said, looking up from his thick reading book. While Baccio sat lazily on top of his bed, Shimmy had the couch all to himself. And he spent that sweet time reading a very large book, spinning his dreadlock between his fingers, and lightly resting his head against the corvid on his shoulder-

Lucky froze. His eyes locked onto it.

"Where did Magic go anyway?" Shimmy laid the book down completely on his lap.

"I don't know..." OJ shrugged and moved forward into the room, Lucky following him inside and closing the door behind him. "He just ran off like he usually does- wait a second; why are you two in here?"

Shimmy paused. "'Cause there's light in here."

Baccio snickered. It was true; Shimmy and Baccio's room was the only one with actual light in it. Even if it was just a faint lantern sitting on top of the desk. Though, Lucky was still fixated on the huge, black bird on Shimmy's shoulder.

"No, no, no, what I mean is why are you in here while you could be out helping the rest of us out here try and turn the lights back on?"

"Don't the waitresses have flashlights or somethin'?"

"Well, yeah... Not a lot. Plus, the batteries ran out in all of them and- you still could've helped out!"

"What's the point in stumbling around if everyone else is...

Lucky couldn't stop focusing on Shimmy's bird. It was just... sitting there. On his shoulder. Calmly. What was it doing there? And why? Was it a pet? Were pets even allowed? How could I have gone this far without noticing it anyways? Where does it even stay-

"You alright, Lucky?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on him.

"Wh-what? I-uh-" Lucky realized his mouth was hanging wide open, and stammered to find words to explain himself. Why did everyone start looking at me?

Shimmy chuckled softly and reached his hand up towards the corvid on his shoulder.

"This is Nevermore." He smiled. His fingers ruffled the dark feathers. "Isn't she pretty?"

Lucky nodded slowly. She was very pretty. Her feathers sat perfectly in place, smoothing out the frame and reflecting the soft light in just the right way. And there was something about her small eyes that held such a perfect balance of calmness and pride. How could one raven hold such beauty all from just patiently sitting there? Amazing.

"Shimmy, look." OJ broke Lucky's focus on Nevermore. "There's something out there scaring the shit outta everyone."

"Oh yeah," Shimmy went back to the book in his hands. "It's just the ghost, ya know."

"That 'ghost' almost killed Lucky, dude."

Shimmy stopped and looked back up at OJ. It seemed almost as if he was holding in a laugh. Likewise, Baccio knitted his eyebrows and sat up a bit to look over at OJ.

"Yeah, that thing came out of nowhere and made the room really hot and cold. I'm sure you two heard it at some point. It was saying things like 'feeding time' and was laughing and screaming and all that. And, ya know, I usually don't believe what Magic has to say, but all the ghost stories you've been telling him seem to be true and I don't know how the hell we're gonna get rid of this thing-"

Shimmy burst out laughing.

"HAHAh-I-I'M SORRY BACCIO I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE IT'S JUST-HHEHAHHAh"

OJ stopped.

"Wh-what are you..?" OJ struggled to find words in between Shimmy's loud cackling.

What's going on? Why is he laughing? Is he laughing cause it attacked me?

"OK OK ok," Shimmy rubbed his eyes and wheezed in between words. "S-should I tell them, Baccio?"

Baccio shrugged and chuckled along with Shimmy.

"Alright, so," Shimmy took a deep breath in. "I lied about the ghost."

OJ didn't move.

"Wait, what?" He scrunched his face up in anger.

"Yeah! I just told Magic all those stories to freak y'all out!"

Lucky was now more confused than ever. Nothing made sense. Then what were the-

"What were all the noises about then, huh?" OJ said, taking the words right out of Lucky's mouth. OJ's tone grew more frustrated with every word.

Shimmy snickered and rose from his chair. Nevermore adjusted her placement on his shoulder as he stood up.

"It was Alexis! She got out and started crawling around the vents."

Wait, who?

"OH, you gotta be kidding me!" OJ threw his hands up and shifted on his feet. "Really? That was the cause of all this?"

Kneeling down next to the vent grate near the floor, Shimmy pulled the grate itself off the wall and put it down.

"I wasn't expecting her to say 'feeding time', but she was in there for so long, I guess she got hungry!" Shimmy laughed. He began to whistle and click his tongue as he called into the vent. His call echoed through the vents for a few moments, until...

"Feeding time!" The ghosts voice cackled through the room.

Clack clack clack clack clack.

Soon after the clicking in the vents finished, the head of a large, gray parrot peaked out of the opening.

"There you are!" Shimmy smiled. The large parrot bobbed her head up and down and began cackling menacingly. Reaching out his hand towards her, Shimmy carefully carried the parrot out of the vents and stood himself back up. Shimmy now had two large birds on him.

"I can't fuckin' believe this." OJ rubbed his temples and shifted on his feet again.

"Lucky," Shimmy said, completely ignoring OJ. "This is Alexis." He held her up a little bit more for Lucky to see better. "Can you say 'hi', Alexis?"

Alexis turned her head to look at Lucky with a piercing eye, bobbed up and down, adjusted herself on Shimmy's hand and let out a chorus of "Hi! Hello, hello". Lucky gave her a sheepish wave in return.

"What the hell is going on here?!" OJ finally blurted. "OK... If your bird was the one making noises, then how did the lights go out?"

"I shut them off." Baccio waved a hand at OJ.

"Yeah, after Alexis got into the vents, Baccio and I thought it'd be funny to prank y'all," Shimmy moved Alexis onto his free shoulder and returned to his chair. "So, I told Magic all those silly ghosts stories and Baccio went and shut all the power off. To be honest, I didn't think y'all would believe him..."

"I almost didn't." OJ rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Wait, how'd you short out the power, though?"

Shimmy paused and glanced at Baccio, who shrugged.

"I don't know." Baccio moved back into his lazed position on the bed. "Wasn't me, though. Somethin' must've happened with the power."

"I'm sure someone'll stop by to fix it." Shimmy picked his book back up and returned to it.

THUD

Everyone's eyes turned towards the door.

"G-g-g-g-g..." Lucky's teeth began chattering and the same fear he felt earlier gripped him again.

If Shimmy's bird was the voice echoing through the club, and Baccio was the one who turned out the lights then... Lucky gulped as he pieced the clues together.

The lights short circuiting... And the glowing eyes and teeth... T-that would mean...!

S L A M

"Everyone, back away from the door..." OJ said softly as he shielded Lucky from whatever was trying to enter their room.

"Should I turn off the lamp?" Shimmy whispered.

OJ shook his head violently in protest and then pressed a finger to his lips, telling everyone to stay silent.

A few groans rolled through the wall. Whoever, or WHATEVER, was out there, it was right outside the door. Leaning against the door, jiggling the handle, and letting out more painful groans. As the door opened, OJ reared back, ready to throw a punch.

And socked Magic right in the face.

"AH WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE!?" Magic screamed, stumbling back and landing on his rear.

"Magic?" OJ shook off the pain from hitting him. "Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

Shimmy and Baccio let out a roar of laughter and cackling. A wave of relief swept through Lucky from seeing Magic and realizing he was the source of all the commotion. And OJ, well, his knuckles really hurt.

"Well, I was TRYING to show you guys how I was gonna get the ghost." Magic pushed himself off the ground and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You really couldn't slow down for once in your god damn life to not run into anything?" OJ spoke over Shimmy's and Baccio's laughter.

"Heh, you know me..."

OJ rolled his eyes. "And what the hell are you wearing, dude?"

"Oh yeah!" Magic straightened out his posture to show off the concoction of garbage on his body. He had one of the janitor's uniforms, but it was way too big for him; the sleeves were rolled up to allow the use of his hands and the pants were tucked into his boots. And strapped to his back he had one of the vacuum cleaners. The extension tube came around to the front where Magic could easily hold it and point it at anything. Magic chose to point it at OJ. "This is how I'm gonna get the ghost, dude!"

Lucky let out a snort. This is ridiculous.

OJ took a deep breath in, holding in a laugh. "There isn't a ghost, Magic."

Lowering his vacuum cleaner tube, Magic gave OJ a blank stare.

"Wait, what- yes there is! We heard it!" Magic said.

"It was just Shimmy's bird in the vent, man." OJ laughed to himself.

Peering around OJ and Lucky, Magic looked over at Shimmy sitting on the couch, laughing out loud with both birds resting on his shoulder. Alexis bobbed up and down and gave an eerie laugh back at Magic.

"... You gotta be kidding me.." Magic moved both hands up to his face and groaned. "Ugh, I feel like an idiot..."

OJ laughed. "You are an idiot."

"Fuck you."

As OJ and Magic laughed off their idiocy, Lucky suddenly remembered earlier events. Fighting off the ghost. The room getting to burning hot and freezing cold temperatures. The burn on his arm. Where was all that from? He opened his mouth to ask Shimmy but immediately closed it. I'd just be proven wrong if I ask anything. I mean, OJ and Magic thought the sounds the ghost were making was real but they got proven wrong. And they're smarter than I am. Just don't say anything. Forget it happened.

Lucky moved his arm closer to his chest and smiled. At least everyone else was having a good time.


End file.
